


Nothing to Fear (but the sky falling on our heads)

by dendral, peskylilcritter



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Nonbinary Character, Self-Insert Month
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 09:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9812975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendral/pseuds/dendral, https://archiveofourown.org/users/peskylilcritter/pseuds/peskylilcritter
Summary: What do you do when you find two injured aliens in the forest?Well, Mick takes them home with her, freaking out all the while.





	1. trees falling in the woods

**Author's Note:**

> started writing this in october, originally to try and make my ocs less like self-inserts. then someone on tumblr came up with self-insert month and since i couldnt write anything at the time, i posted this instead and threw out the whole elaborate backstory i had for the main character.
> 
> anyway. since a lot of people on tumblr liked this little fic, and i really enjoy writing it, i thought id post on ao3 too. if you like this and my other writing, check out my tumblr under the same handle.
> 
> A WARNING: theres a pretty good chance that some of this will contain tmi. since my self-insert is the viewpoint character, you get to see an awful lot of my inner landscape as well as my day to day life and some of its not pretty. for those of you who are somewhat faint of heart, periods, binders, sweat in uncomfortable places will all be mentioned. and since i have depression and anxiety, those will feature pretty heavily, as well as treatment for them.

She’s only a few kilometers away from town when she hears a noise like a tree hitting the ground. For a moment she considers investigating, but she’s tired and it’s getting late so she keeps walking.

Only, the forest doesn’t go back to being quiet. There’s a strange hissing sound and then someone vomiting and someone else talking. She argues with herself for a minute and decides to see if they need help.

The vomiting stops and the forest is silent. After a few minutes she can hear steps coming in her direction. Two men are walking more or less toward her, dressed in odd clothes and long brown capes.

“Hello!” she calls. “Do you need help?”

They both start talking, in a language she’s never even heard before, and walking faster. She doesn’t think they understood her question.

“Do you speak English?” she asks when they’re closer. There’s no comprehension on either of their faces.

The older one says something, probably in the same language as before. She shakes her head. “I don’t understand you.”

He says something else, and it sounds like a different language. When she doesn’t reply he tries again. Three more times, switching languages each time. Then the boy starts trying too.

“I didn’t understand any of that.” What the fuck do you do with two weird strangers in the woods who don’t speak any language you understand and don’t understand yours? Well, English isn’t the only language she’s familiar with. “Parlez vous francais? Sprechen Sie Deutsch?” Nothing. “Uh, A bheil Gàidhlig agaibh?” Still nothing. Good. That’s one of two things she can say in Gaelic and the other is ‘I don’t understand’. “Atah medaber ‘ivrit?” Nothing, and she’s run out of languages. She sighs.

The boy suddenly starts talking again, this time to the man. The talk for a minute, from the tone the boy is insistent on something but she can’t tell what the man is thinking or feeling from his tone. It’s a little creepy, how calm he is.

Finally the man turns to her and says something, then mimes drinking.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Hang on, I’ve got water.” She has to dig around in her backpack for the spare bottle.

The man takes it with a smile, says something that probably means ‘thank you’ and hands it to the boy. They both drink deeply, although the man spits out his first sip. Probably him she heard vomiting then.

She checks her watch. Damn, it’s going to be past dark by the time she gets home. She has to make it clear to these two that she has to leave, but how? Talking won’t work, and she’s always been terrible at charades. She tries anyway.

“Hey, I’ve got to get home. It’s getting pretty late and I’ve got a ways to go,” she says, pointing at her watch. “So, bye.” She waves at them, starting to turn.

The man shouts. Just from the tone she thinks it probably means ‘no’. She stops, looks over her shoulder.

He gestures for her to come closer, then starts walking away. After a few steps he looks back at her and gestures again.

For a long moment she’s at war with herself but then the man gestures again and something about his expression, his body language…

She sighs and follows him.

*

There’s a spaceship in her forest.

A spaceship. In her forest. The people who presumably landed (crashed?) the spaceship in her forest are aliens. She’s having language barrier problems with aliens that look awfully human.

Spaceship. Aliens. Shit, she’s living in a bad Sci-Fi movie.

*

Taking the two aliens (ALIENS!) home on public transport may be one of the most awkward experiences of her life.

They look so very obviously out of place, and their discomfort is so clear that she’s sure the entire bus can feel it. She’s not really doing much better but she’s used to feeling out of place and well, she’s taken this bus a hundred times. It’s familiar even if her companions are strange.

For the first ten minutes or so she’s too busy being anxious to notice much of anything but once she gets that under control she notices how the older guy goes white every time the bus hits a bump in the road. That looks like pain which means he’s probably injured, and shit. She can’t take them to a hospital; not without first figuring out which hospitals take patients without insurance. She loses some time trying to remember what kind of first aid supplies she has. Hopefully nothing’s broken because she’s absolutely certain that she’s not equipped to deal with that.

The half hour it takes to get to her stop feels like an eternity.

It’s a relief to close the apartment door behind her. Her aliens wait in the hallway until she herds them toward the living room and makes them both sit on the couch.

The first aid kit in the bathroom is still in its original packaging. Good. She grabs the scissors, some Band-Aids and a pack of painkillers too.

They’re both sitting where she left them. Older guy looks less like he’s going to pass out any second and the kid is fussing over him.

And how the hell is she going to explain to them that she wants to treat their wounds? She stands in the doorway for a minute, worrying, and then just dumps her supplies on the coffee table and gestures for older dude to take off his weird shirt.

It takes a few minutes of gesturing and frustration for everyone before he understands what she’s trying to do.

He has a huge purple bruise along the entire left side of his ribcage and a deep cut in the center. Oh, this is not going to be fun at all.

She reaches for the disinfectant first and tries to ignore the hiss of pain. The kid glares at her but doesn’t try to stop her once older guy says something in their strange language. She’s grateful.

She bandages the cut as well as she can, considering her complete lack of medical training and inadequate supplies.


	2. morning after

The alarm pulls her out of a really weird dream about her mother and mom’s cat and- the memory is gone and only the certainty that it was really weird remains.

A squinting look at her phone tells her that it’s 6 am on a Saturday and she’s a fucking idiot who can’t remember to turn off her alarm on the weekend.

On her way to the coffee machine the two sleeping men on her couch remind her that she has guests. Too early to think about that. She gets the coffee started and heads to the bathroom, still not awake enough for anything but squinting and keeping one hand on the wall for balance.

After a cup of coffee and a cigarette on her tiny balcony, wrapped in a blanket, she feels more ready to deal with the aliens on her couch.

She listens to the older one snore softly as she makes a bowl of cereal and takes one of her pills out of the blister pack. She needs to get her prescription filled soon. Only enough left for a week and a half.

She’s nearly done with breakfast when the boy sits up, making a grumpy sound of confusion. He sounds like all her siblings when woken early. Apparently grumpy half-awake teenagers are a universal constant, she thinks a bit hysterically. A surge of anxiety keeps her unmoving in her chair.

The boy looks around, notices his friend next to him and relaxes, then sees her and tenses right back up. She tries to smile.

“Good morning,” she says, trying to sound soothing and friendly. She can’t tell if it works.

It occurs to her, somewhat belatedly, that she still has no idea what her guests’ names are.

The boy says nothing.

“Uh, do you want something to eat?” she asks, lifting her spoon and miming eating. “Or something to drink?” She lifts her glass and takes a sip.

The boy nods.

“Come on,” she says, getting up to grab a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water from the tap.

The boy gets up from the couch and follows her to the tiny kitchenette.

He sniffs the water first, then tests it by sticking one finger into the glass and sucking off the water.

She’s a bit offended but well. The kid’s on a strange planet in a stranger’s home and whatever she gives him could potentially poison him.

The next snore from the other room ends in a kind of grunting noise, followed by shifting cloth and footsteps.

Sleep has done him good; he’s a lot less pale, she notices when he comes into view. He looks younger too.

The boy reaches for the cupboard, gets out a glass, fills it with water and hands it to his friend. He drinks half of it in one go.

If he’s that thirsty he could probably use some food too. Simple things would probably be best.

She makes her guests sit at the table and goes back to the kitchen to collect two plates and butter knives, bread, butter and two kinds of jam. It takes her three trips to get it all on the table, and a ridiculous amount of gesturing to explain what it is.

They’re testing jam flavors and talking when she goes back to the kitchen to get more coffee. Fuck, she needs at least a second cup and another cigarette. And by now she’s seriously considering anxiety medication.

On the balcony with her coffee and cigarette she pull out her phone, goes through her emails, checks her tumblr notes, replies to her sister’s good morning message. After a while she realizes she’s staring blankly at the screen, trying to decide what to do.

Eventually she opens Skype and types “youre gonna think im delusional but trust me”

“this is real”

“i found two aliens and a spaceship in the woods yesterday”

“and I brought the aliens home with me”

She stops, finger hovering over the keyboard.

Something hot touching the fingers of her right hand startles her. Fuck, she’s let the cigarette burn down too far.

Dendral’s not online right now anyway. Time to go back inside.

*

They’re still busy with breakfast when she goes back inside. (The strawberry jam looks much emptier than it did when she took it out of the fridge. She’ll need to put it on the shopping list later.)

“Alright,” she says, sitting on the edge of the coffee table. They both look at her, still chewing. “Names. I’ll go first.” She points at herself. “Mick.” Then she points at the them, raising her eyebrows.

Older guy swallows and says, “Obiwan.”

She repeats it back to him a few times until he nods, smiling.

Then they both look at the boy, who makes a face but obligingly says, “Anakin.”

“Good,” she says. That’s that out of the way at least. She gets up, gesturing vaguely. “I gotta, uh, get dressed.”

She turns and heads back to her bedroom, feeling their eyes on her back the entire time.

As she leans back against her closed door she realizes she’s still holding the empty coffee cup, and groans.

*

It occurs to her, as she’s digging around in her closet for the comfortable underwear, that her guests will need new clothes. Even if what they have didn’t make them look like they just walked out of a convention – or a very eccentric fashion show – they’ll need clean things. Especially since there’s blood and scorch marks all over their clothes.

And she’ll need to buy extra food too.

She sits on the floor with a thump, breathing carefully slow and tries to make her thoughts stop spinning. Anxiety is crawling up her back, digging into her shoulders and tightening her chest.

After a long while she can breathe normally again, and her thoughts are a little clearer. Well, maybe it’s time to call in the cavalry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dendral is a real person, and my friend. find her over on tumblr, if you wanna see cool art and great fic


	3. the cavalry arrives (or the medics anyway)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many thanks to dendral for writing the chatlogs with me, and to mom (@rina-42 on tumblr) for talking through her own appearances with me. <3 you both
> 
> also. reminder that im from austria, europe and therefore dont get a lot of american stuff.
> 
> one more thing: obiwan is a deliberate misspelling bc im not used to dashes in the middle of names. the spelling mistakes in the chatlogs are also deliberate bc tahts just the way i type when chatting.

“What,” the voice on the other end says, sleepy and grumpy.

“Fuck,” she says. “I’m sorry, mom. I forgot it was that early. I need your help with something.”

Mom sighs. “Hang on.”

She listens to the rustle of cloth in silence, followed by the opening and closing of a door.

“Alright,” Mom says. “What’s so important that you called me on a Saturday morning at… half past seven?”

“I, uh…” she pauses, searching for the right words, and finds herself stalled.

“Mick?” Mom asks after a minute.

“How would you treat a long gash along the ribcage? Like, in theory,” she blurts out.

There’s silence for a long moment. “Well,” Mom says, “that depends. How deep is it? In theory.”

“Uh. Hang on, let me check.” She starts for her bedroom door, thankfully stopped by Mom’s voice.

“I’ll be there in an hour. Oh, do you mind if I bring Josh?”

“I… No, that’s alright. Thanks, Mom. I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah. Love you, kid.”

“You too. Bye.”

*

She doesn’t want to leave her bedroom just yet, so she checks her phone.

Dendral is clearly still awake, since there’s a reply from her.

dendral: ummmm

dendral: did you get really high or something?

dendral: or did you get really into larping recently and i'm only now finding out

peskylilcritter: no

peskylilcritter: [photo attached]

peskylilcritter: that's their spaceship

dendral: holy shit. that's either real or a very convincing movie screencap, dude.

dendral: are u sure the aliens aren't just tourists or something

peskylilcritter: ???

peskylilcritter: im p sure they're not from earth

dendral: how many languages did u try

peskylilcritter: English, german, French, gaelic and Hebrew

peskylilcritter: they tried like a dozen and not a single one sounded familiar

dendral: huh. weird. maybe the languages are made up and they're just fucking with u. tho i'm still not 100% convinced this isn't some elaborate joke you're pulling on me, i will believe you for now.

dendral: is this gonna interfere with our museum thing or

dendral: bc like

dendral: i can still cancel and get a refund for my flights if i need to

peskylilcritter: uh, can i get back to you on that?

peskylilcritter: i need to figure out if i can just take them with me

dendral: yea no prob my dude

*

She manages to waste half an hour on her phone until there’s a knock on her door. Anxiety spikes through her so she turns to her mirror and smiles at herself, tries to make it as genuine as possible. Her heart stops trying to break through her ribs.

Obiwan is waiting outside her door, looking apologetic. After much gesturing and miming she realizes that he wants to know where the toilet is.

She shows him to the bathroom, face hot, and leaves him to figure it out for himself. He’s from a civilization that builds spaceships. Surely he can figure out a toilet and sink.

Anakin’s in the kitchen, inspecting the microwave with an expression of utter fascination when she comes back. The dishes and food are on the counter, neatly arranged, plates stacked.

Good to know her alien guests are polite. Fuck, she’s already craving another cigarette.

Instead she washes the dishes and puts the food away. That takes less than ten minutes. Still another fifteen til Mom gets here. (Mick really hopes Mom catches the earlier bus. Or just takes the subway.)

The doorbell rings.

Anakin jumps, literally, but Mick almost doesn’t notice as she races to the doorway. “Hello?” she says into the receiver.

“It’s Mom.”

She buzzes Mom up, relieved beyond words.

Obiwan returns from the bathroom before Mom makes it up the stairs.

“Hey, Mom,” she says as Mom walks up the last few steps.

“Hey, kid,” Mom says, smiling. She reaches out as soon as Mick is within reach, silently offering a hug.

Mick steps forward and spends a few seconds pretending Mom is all-powerful and can make all the scary things go away. Then she steps away and says, “Come on, I need to introduce you to someone.”

Obiwan and Anakin are waiting in the living room, dressed now, and clearly wary.

Mom and Josh stop in the hallway, taking off shoes and coats while Mick walks closer to her guests, making sure they see her smile and hoping it’ll make them relax a bit.

“Alright,” Mick says when Mom and Josh are done putting down their stuff. She points at Mom. “Rina.” Then at Josh. “Josh. Mom, Josh, this is Obiwan and that’s Anakin. I found them in the woods yesterday and took them home.”

Mom sighs deeply. “Oh, Michelle.”

*

When Mick retreats to the balcony to have that cigarette after all, Mom follows her out.

Anakin glances at them, then returns to watching Josh like a hawk. Obiwan is sitting still, letting Josh examine the cut on his side.

“How are you doing?” Mom asks the moment the balcony door closes behind her.

Mick shrugs and lights her cigarette. “Anxiety, you know.”

Mom nods. “Found them in the woods, huh?”

“Well,” Mick starts, “they crashed their spaceship.”

Mom stares at her.

“I’m serious. Look.” She pulls out her phone and shows Mom the photo. “By the way, how did you get here so fast?”

“Car2go,” Mom says absently, staring at the photo.

“And why did you bring Josh?”

Mom gives her a Look. “He’s got more medical training than I do. And from the description I thought bringing the medical professional seemed like a good idea.”

“Oh.”

*

Mick doesn’t watch whatever Mom and Josh are doing with Obiwan. She’s anxious enough already; no need to make it worse by watching someone put a person back together.

Her dash is kind of dead, but dendral’s still online so she sends her a message.

peskylilcritter: isn’t it like, nearly midnight over there?

dendral: ....look.

dendral: look buddy.

dendral: look

dendral: don't be calling out my terrible life choices like this

peskylilcritter: hey im glad

peskylilcritter: moms and her bf are patching up the aliens in my living room

dendral: cool cool. tell your mom i say hi. tell the aliens too.

dendral: honestly im still amazed abt all this and kind of not 100% believing it dude

dendral: like. on one hand. that's cool af. on the other. only you, man. only you.

peskylilcritter: duuuude

peskylilcritter: same

dendral: what kind of bullshit luck do you have anyway

peskylilcritter: *cries

peskylilcritter: i kno right

peskylilcritter: this morning i had to explain to an alien where my bathroom was

dendral: im howlin

dendral: that's one of those thing where u just. would never think u would have to explain that to someone. and yet here you are.

peskylilcritter: i ahvent been in the bathroom since he was in tehre

peskylilcritter: im not sure i want to look

peskylilcritter: what if they don't kno how toilets work

dendral: oh my god

dendral: i don't even want to think abt it

peskylilcritter: ok im goin in

peskylilcritter: wish me luck

dendral: gl

dendral: if you die i'll write a nice eulogy for your funeral

peskylilcritter: don't fuckn emntion the aliesn or toilets

dendral: no promises ; )

peskylilcritter: ok everything looks normal

peskylilcritter: no wet floors or interesting stains or anything

dendral: well that's good to hear

dendral: tho i am somewhat saddened that extraneous weird stuff isn't happening at this point. what good are aliens if the only weird thing is the fact they're here?? where's the alien invasion. when will they want to see "our leader"

dendral: i have so many questions, mick. so many

peskylilcritter: :DDD

peskylilcritter: maybe they'll ask when they understand what im saying

peskylilcritter: otoh they crashlanded

peskylilcritter: i don't think they meant to come here

dendral: what if you have to teach them how to ask "take me to your leader" in English lmao

dendral: but yeah, fair. they're probably like. Terrified

peskylilcritter: the kid keeps glaring at everything

peskylilcritter: esp mom and her bof

peskylilcritter: *boyfriend

dendral: is he like the other guy's son or something? the older guy looks a bit young to have a teenage kid

peskylilcritter: idfk

peskylilcritter: they clearly kno each other

dendral: the questions just keep multiplying, my dude

peskylilcritter: important question: how do dude clothes work

peskylilcritter: these guys need clothes

peskylilcritter: but i don't understand the sizing

peskylilcritter: i tried to buy jeans from the guys section once

dendral: the real question is why are u asking me lol

peskylilcritter: fuckiing nightmare

dendral: you're the one with little brothers

peskylilcritter: makes even less sense than girl clothes

dendral: ask one of them or something.

peskylilcritter: JUST THE ONE

peskylilcritter: and he doesn't talk

dendral: right right. i lose track. ask your mom's bf?

peskylilcritter: .... i should just ask mom *facepalm

dendral: lmao

peskylilcritter: shes the one who bought baby bros clothes

peskylilcritter: *whimpers

peskylilcritter: that still means i have to take them shopping

dendral: aw. shit. money, man. they're defs not gonna have money.

peskylilcritter: fuuuck

peskylilcritter: i have a savings account

peskylilcritter: but thatll have to wait til monday

peskylilcritter: i think ill open commissions for fics to get some extra cash

dendral: probably a good idea. do y'all not have something like a good will over there?

dendral: and i can venmo you some cash. you can just pay me back later or w/e.

peskylilcritter: hang on, explain good will

peskylilcritter: i keep hearing abt it but i don't kno what it is

dendral: oh. it's like a charity store kind of. way cheaper stuff than normal stores.

dendral: most of the stuff there will have been donated.

dendral: either that i would recommend thrifting but idk if you guys have thrift stores either?

peskylilcritter: another thing to ask mom abt

peskylilcritter: i mean we prob do but i don't kno where to find anything like that

peskylilcritter: gotta go moms calling


	4. preparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last of what ive posted on tumblr. if you want real time updates on me and my writing come check out my blog

On her way back to the living room she takes a detour to the hallway to check how much cash she has.

Damn. Enough to buy food for the weekend for herself, but not enough for three people, or several outfits for two people.

The online banking app tells her she’s got enough in her account to cover everything she needs to get, unless she makes stupid choices when she buys clothes for her guests. Good.

She checks the clock – 8:30 am – and heads back to the living room, trying to figure out how to communicate ‘get dressed’ to her aliens.

Except-

Nevermind, she won’t need to tell them anything. Face heating up, she turns right back around when she sees Obiwan, dressed in what looks like boxer briefs and nothing else, apparently trying to shake out his pants.

There’s a naked man in her living room and nothing about this is comfortable.

She doesn’t close her bedroom door, just to avoid the noise and tries to keep herself busy for a bit.

Wallet, keys, book and disinfectant spray are all in her bag, the phone goes in her coat pocket and after some thought she grabs the baby toy to fidget with.

All the moving around is making her ridiculously conscious of her breasts. She grimaces, glares down at them. Takes off her shirt and gets her binder out of the closet. Today will almost certainly be easier to deal with while wearing a binder.

*

It occurs to her as she’s half-way through saying Obiwan's name, that her guests might not know what binders are and might think it weird that she suddenly doesn’t visibly have boobs anymore. Fuck it, she doesn’t have the emotional spoons to care. And if they turn out to be transphobic shitheads, she’s fucking dumping them back in the forest. She made a decision when she figured out she was nonbinary that she wasn’t ever going to tolerate shit like that in her life. Not ever. Even if it means leaving two people homeless.

Obiwan turns at the sound of his name, already smiling. Anakin is looking sulky, arms crossed and slouching in that uncomfortable looking way so many teenage boys have.

Besides a quick glance at her chest neither of them react and Mick breathes out carefully, relieved.

“Come on,” she says, “put on your shoes, we’re going shopping.”

She goes into the hallway to get her own shoes so Obiwan and Anakin can see what she’s doing.

She’s tying the laces of her left shoe when Obiwan says, “Shoes?”

He’s holding up his boots. Mick stares at him for a moment before she can manage to make herself smile and nod. “Shoes.”

The way he pronounces the sh sound is just a little off but otherwise he sounds like a native English speaker. Fucking weird. But maybe dendral’ll get a laugh out of it. Mick reaches for her phone to skype her.

peskylilcritter: turns out older dude is a fast learner

peskylilcritter: and he pronounces English words like a native wtf

Anakin is glaring at her phone when she looks up, slipping it back into her pocket. Mick rolls her eyes. Teenagers.

They’re all dressed so Mick checks her bag one last time, rushes to her room to grab her glasses, and leads the way down the stairs and to the bus stop.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to dogmatix for helping with the title, which is a quote from asterix and obelix


End file.
